Sisters Lost

When I was growing up, I always felt like something was missing. I'd always simply assumed that it was the normalcy not found in dysfunctional families. We had a house to live in, but we never really had a home. My father was an unstable and abusive alcoholic. Life was a living hell. Somehow I survived life with him, but some days I still wonder how. When I was about fifteen I heard a rumor that my father had children with another woman before he married my mom. I asked her if I had any other siblings and was told that I was being ridiculous. My father had been nineteen when I was born and he and my mom had dated for quite some time before I was conceived. I put it out of my mind and moved on with my life. I decided to join the ARMY after graduation, but for reasons too complicated to detail here, I didn't.

I had always been a Christan, but I didn't really know just how much is Gods plan. I thought I had planned my life perfectly, but I was never in control. For years I would beat myself up about the loser I was, knowing that life would have been better in the military. Only now do I understand and actually appreciate all that I thought I'd lost. Had I gone in the ARMY I would have never looked back and never gone back to that small Southern town I wanted so badly to leave. But had I left I never would have received the blessing that God was waiting to give me. It wasn't God punishing me for being born, He was putting me right where I needed to be. What would happen in the years to follow is something that I can only consider a miracle.

The years passed and life fell into a comfortable, predictable pattern. I earned almost as much money as my better educated friends, I had a child, I was confident and that sense that something was missing had actually faded. One day I decided I wanted to explore new career paths. I applied for a job in a new field that required a clean driving record, which I had. So of course it happened then that on February 27, 2006, I got my first and to date, only ticket. It wasn't even for speeding. I was so upset! February turned into March and I still had not been called for that job that I so desperately wanted. I fretted and paced, paced and fretted. Finally, my best friend Amber said that I should look it up to see if it was on the county clerks page. She wanted to prove to me that a ticket wasn't so bad. I would find out in a terrible and life changing way, that a ticket really wasn't so bad.

After she typed my name into the search box, my fathers name came up beneath it. I didn't think anything of it or even bother to glance at his list of traffic violations. Something, however, caught Amber's eye. "Don't click off that page," she said as I moved from in front of the computer. She clicked a couple of different keys and pulled up a document before saying, "Dude, you've got another brother or sister."

"No I don't," I said, blowing her off, but instantly that old rumor returned to haunt me. "Yes, you do," she said firmly as she pushed me into the chair and spun it toward the computer screen, "See," she said pointing, "It even has your mom's name in it."

It still wasn't registering even as I read the words on the screen. A child support order from 1992. 1992? I remembered that year, we had gone to movies and had dinner in restaurants, it was the closest we'd ever been to being a real family. Oh, what a lie! My dad had a baby with another woman. Worse, everybody had just pretended like it never happened. "I know her," I whispered as shock melted away into a confused kind of hurt that I can't explain.

"Who?" Amber asked as her husband sharply stopped playing his guitar and both turned to stare at me. "I know Brenda Howard," I insisted. Amber patiently asked where I knew her from, but all I could do was shake my head and shrug. It took a couple of weeks for the shock to wear off, turning into a weird kind of anger that fueled my determination. As badly as I wanted to storm up to Brenda Howard's door and demand to see my sibling, I knew that I wasn't legally allowed to do that. Florida paperwork only says "Minor Child" not even stipulating sex or age. If my brother or sister had been born in the late 80's or early 90's, he or she was most definitely still a minor child. So I did all that I could do, I researched Brenda Howard until I knew her like she was my own mother. The more I learned about her, however, the more I realized that the Brenda Howard in our community was not the mother of my lost sibling. Oh, I felt so...lost. All that time I had spent looking in the wrong place had been wasted.

Eventually a family friend confided in me that I had a sister, but could offer no other information. With no age or name this information was basically useless, but at least I knew something. I moved to Tennessee with my family and got married. When I gave birth to my son, I really began to wonder about her; was I an aunt? Was my sister pretty? Was she kind? Did she know about me? Would she like me? Although I had temporarily put my search on hold, never once did I lose hope that I actually would find her. Just as I had known that something was missing, I knew with such an amazing certainty that I would find her. I looked here and there, but with no real facts and no starting place, I doubted that I would accomplish much.

One day I was on the Internet, I honestly don't remember looking for her, but all of a sudden the original child support order from Pennsylvania just appeared on the screen. I couldn't believe it, all I could do was stare in stunned shock. That one simple document told me so much that I needed to know. We were born in the same hospital, which meant that chances were good that we were closer in age than I had guessed. My mom told me that around the time of my birth Sacred Heart was the main place they sent young, single mothers to give birth. That meant that Howard was probably her mom's maiden name and they had lived in the same general area we had. But best of all, written in the bottom corner of the page was my sisters name. Victoria.

So many answers from one simple page. They probably still had family in the Allentown area. I tried using the Yellow Pages website, but this archived no results. Still, with a first name for my sister and a closer guess to her age, I began trying to find her through My Space. I figured that she was between 23-26 years old, white, and probably a brunette, although I couldn't rule out blond. I doubted that she was a red-head like me. My Space offered little hope. There had only been four girls that fit and none of them had been her. Because of the economic downturn I could no longer afford the Internet. It would be almost two years before I could resume my search. How much could have changed in two years? What if she'd gotten married? What if her mom did? What if they had moved? Eventually the question really became, what if I DO find her?

All at once the thought terrified me. What if it had just been a one night stand? What if she never knew? Maybe she had a wonderful father and great siblings, maybe this would ruin her life...I didn't want to ruin someones life. But through it all that small, still voice in the back of my mind led me forward. My husband found his estranged daughter using Face book. I was happy for him, but so, so jealous. A simple misspelling of her name had been all that stopped him from finding her. I tried using my sisters name for Allentown, Quakertown, Coopersburg, Bethlehem, the list dwindled down into the smaller townships and boroughs with no luck. I did it all over, using her mom's name. I tried the Yellow Page listings. Nothing. There were plenty of Brenda and Victoria Howard listings, but not the right ones. I angrily clicked the mouse, no longer expecting any kind of result. One of those people search sites came up that lists the utilities and phone numbers. They were offering a $.98 special. I realized at that point in time, my search had become more important than the breath of life. She had to know that I cared.

I forced myself to calm down and began to scroll down the list of Brenda Howards, keeping my eyes on the box that listed relatives. Passing the listings for Pennsylvania I got about half way through the listings before I found what I had been looking for. Later I would find out that Brenda Howard had never had utilities listed in her name in Pennsylvania, but she had in Lexington, SC. Finally I had found the missing piece. I continued my Face book search with new hope, but finding Victoria was still going to be a long way off. Both women have very common

names. I began to divide my focus between searching in PA and SC. I found a girl that met my criteria and could have passed as a relative, I left her a message but received no response.

Still hopeful, I continued my search. I knew that I should probably start typing her name in as Vicky or Vicki, but hadn't yet done so. I typed in the first few letters of her name and the top seven choices came up. My heart sank as I saw Vikki, spelled just like that. How many unique spellings could there be for Vicky? If I saved money and hired a private investigator they would be able to find her in about five minutes using the information that I already had, but how long would it take to save? Five minutes, and I would have my sister. Little did I know that in five minutes I really would have my sister. Never in a million years would I have guessed that the answer was right beneath my nose. Something wonderful was about to happen!

After blankly staring at the little thumbnail sized pictures for several minutes I decided to check out Vikki. She appeared to be about my age and had brown hair. I rested the arrow on her name but couldn't click the mouse. My eyes stared at the tiny photo directly beneath hers. "Don't miss your chance," whispered that small still voice in the back of my head, "You know that's her."

I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I barley breathed. I knew I had to move, but all I could do was stare transfixed at the small picture. I knew...I knew. I moved the mouse slightly, never taking my eyes from a face that was somehow so familiar. I clicked on her name and when the page turned to the bigger picture, I began to cry. I finally looked away long enough to confirm what I already knew in my heart. Listed for parents was the name Brenda Howard. It was November 9, 2010. I clicked on the Send Victoria a Message bar, but all words were lost to me. Even now it seems like I had searched for so long when in reality it had only been about five years. Those old fears resurfaced, all the what ifs and if nots. What if she didn't know? But the same voice that told me I had found her, assured me that she did. I told her about myself and about how I'd found out about her. I told her we'd been born in the same hospital because it meant so much to me, this moment meant so much to me. I let her know that she didn't have to respond but that I had to let her know I cared. I knew who she was. That was all that mattered.

Honestly, I didn't really expect a response, but the next day I had received one. My husband wanted me to read it out loud, but I couldn't because I was crying so hard. He finished reading it for me. She had always known about me and didn't know if I had known about her. She had recently opened her Face book account which may be why it had taken so long to find her. I quickly sent her my phone number and she called me within minutes. There was an immediate connection and I felt like I had known her forever. Instantly I had my sister-and it was wonderful!

I'd finally found the missing part of me. Without God none of this would have happened. What are the chances that my dad had an illegitimate child that I found out about thanks to a minor traffic infraction, and that someone actually put the aging and out dated child support order into the computer system? I can't begin to guess, but all I know is that it did happen. God put me where I needed to be to receive His blessing. We only live about four hours away from one another and her daughter was born a month before my son. We still haven't got to meet in person because of financial difficulties on both ends, but we communicate frequently and we can't wait to finally get to see each other. But that's OK. I found her.

When I told my father that I found her he was actually quite hateful towards me. He asked why I had bothered, to which I replied, "Because she's my sister." We haven't spoken since, and that's fine with me. I doubt that I will ever get any answers and realize that anything he or my mother tells me will most likely not be the truth. Her existence makes my entire life a lie and nobody cares. They went out of the way to keep her a secret for all these years, I doubt anyone feels like being honest now. Although I forgive my parents for this, it's hard not to dwell on the ramifications of what he did. My sister and I could have ended up in the same school, the same church, we could have become friends or passed each other in the street as strangers and never known. I don't blame her mother or my own for the actions of our father, but the situation was handled poorly.

I remember so many things from when I was very young and I think that maybe I always did know. They had to have fought about it, there is no way they didn't. They fought about it thinking that I was too young to know, but honestly, it didn't surprise me. Happily, we've been given a wonderful gift. We found each other and we have the rest of our lives to make up for all the years that we lost.